


Coco-rific

by Bloody_Hellraiser



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-26
Updated: 2016-04-26
Packaged: 2018-06-04 17:12:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6667303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bloody_Hellraiser/pseuds/Bloody_Hellraiser
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In this version of " Bandy Candy", Spike comes back to town a little early, and everybody must get stoned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Coco-rific

**Author's Note:**

> Yep, it's a Spuffy story set during " Band Candy". If you're offended by drug-use and kink, then you probably won't find this story nearly as entertaining as I did. 
> 
> Seemingly unnecessary yet mandatory disclaimer: I am not Bob Dylan, William Blake, nor Joss Whedon. If I was, I would be writing a memoir about all the people I got high and jammed with in the sixties, discussing the pros and cons of iambic pentameter with Shakespeare in a pub somewhere in Heaven, or writing a movie about Loki that involves him being shirtless... A LOT. But, I am not, and as such, own nothing that they've created. I only use their brilliant works to create situations where Buffy and Spike can get it on...A LOT.

**Tyger, tyger burning bright**

William the Bloody had fed well off of the inebriated citizens of Sunnydale that night, and was now munching on yet another of the many chocolate bars his loopy Happy Meals on legs had been carrying. He could tell immediately that they were laced with some chemical, which reminded him somewhat of that night at Woodstock, but unlike the LSD-enhanced blood he and Dru had engorged themselves with on that muddy farm so many years ago, this substance, which appeared to have the whole town wandering about like sex crazed hooligans, was much more subtle and delightful. He vaguely wondered if some old hippie was trying to relive the good old days by testing out his new formula on the locals, and the thought made him smile.

The best thing about this stuff was that it didn’t leave Spike feeling as stoned as any drugs he‘d tried in the past. He’d been around the world several times, experimenting with every substance imaginable, and the sensations caused by this chemical were entirely new to him. He’d never encountered this level of euphoria before, and it didn’t take long for him to decide that whatever this was, it was bloody brilliant. For one thing, he didn’t feel like he was lost in a hallucinogenic haze. He actually felt quite lucid, having no desire to stare at his hand for an hour or some such nonsense. The occasional flash of color did occur, but it wasn’t overly distracting or disconcerting. He just felt happy, and free, and really fucking horny. He’d already had his spot of violence, which only added fuel to the fire.

 Some ponce named Trick and his poofter robe-wearing minions had challenged his right to wander about the crowded streets, and in response he‘d punched their one way tickets to Hell. Apparently, in order to wreak his own form of organized chaos, the mayor had temporarily un-turned a blind eye on the demonic denizens of Sunnyhell, and had issued a twenty-four hour edict to cease and desist on pain of death. Spike laughed out loud right in to young Mr. Trick’s face when he’d heard that, just before he tore the bastard’s head from his shoulders. He was still technically the Master here, after all, and he didn’t give a bloody damn about some pillock mayor or paying tributes to sewer dwelling demons, because as far as he was concerned, if a demon was too sodding lazy to climb out of his hole and find his own babies, then he didn’t bloody deserve ‘em. He did have to admit, however, that the candy was a pretty clever idea and decided that he’d have to snag a few cases of it after he found a bird to shag.

 Sighing inwardly, he gave himself a moment to lament his recently lost love, missing her just a little, even in his presently euphoric state. T'was a pity that the bird in question wasn’t Dru. She would've been in absolute heaven. A part of him would always belong to her, he reckoned, but over a few bottles of fine Mexican tequila, he’d come to terms with the fact that the love he’d believed to have been eternal was entirely one-sided, and in the end, even that had begun to fade. After yet again having to endure playing second fiddle to Peaches while being left utterly neglected and essentially starving in his convalescence, his devotion had started to waiver, and even though he’d tried to deny it to himself and Dru, hoping against hope that a change of scenery would put everything right again, there had been no hiding the truth from her so-called “pixies.” _Her loss_ , he thought to himself. _She’s missin’ one hell of a show_.

 Much like Woodstock, there were hundreds of people milling about the streets of Sunnydale in varying shades of disarray and undress. The first bloke he’d snacked on had been wearing nothing but his knickers and a fancy neck tie. It seemed that every adult in town was dancing through the streets, eating chocolate, drinking all types of booze straight from the bottle, and fucking on every available surface. Children ran amok, little faces beaming with newly found freedom as they skipped and danced about like wild woodland fairies. It was as though the entire town of Sunnydale had suddenly _become_ Dru. That thought made him laugh out loud. He vaguely wondered why these Dionysian shenanigans weren’t being overrun by droves of bloodthirsty demons and vamps, despite the mayoral edict, when he heard the sound of a brawl in the dim alley just ahead.

 Spike stepped into the alley entrance, and lo and behold, there was the Golden Girl herself, kicking the shit out of a S’veklor demon who had apparently been too enraptured with the lure of easy pickings to notice when he’d become the hunted instead of the hunter. Spike was enraptured as well, but not by prey. He watched in a trance as the slayer whirled like a dervish, leaped on to the demon’s back, twisting it’s head ‘til its neck gave an audible snap.

 He loved watching her fight, ever since that first night behind the Bronze, but he’d never noticed the aura before. Intellectually speaking, he understood that the drugs could be causing the effect, but in his heart, he knew it had always been there. “Golden” wasn’t nearly an apt enough description. As she fought, she radiated with the thrill of the violence unleashed from within her tiny form, but there was no evil in it, just the pure joy of fulfilling her destiny as the Guardian of the Light, and it was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. She glowed with it; she was brilliant, she was shining, she was…looking right at him and smiling.

Buffy, who was standing over her dispatched foe with her hands on her hips, was positively beaming. She didn’t seem at all surprised to see him, as she very well should have been. Instead, she spoke like they were old friends and he’d just popped ‘round the corner for smokes, and in a little girl’s voice drawled, “ Didja see that? That was awesome. I think I‘ve killed, like, eleven. ”

Her exuberance made Spike chuckle as he stepped forward and peered down at the demon on the ground. “ You’ve killed eleven of these?”

Buffy threw her hands up in an exaggerated spastic shrug. “ I dunno. They were big, ugly, doing evil. THIS one..." she pointed down emphatically at the headless corpse on the ground, " was trying to eat a little kid, so I beat the crap outta HIM.” Then she looked back down at the demon as if she were slightly confused and not a little disappointed and said, “ He didn’t put up much of a fight though. I think he was drunk or something.”

Spike smile wryly. “ I’ll just bet, pet.”, and then chuckled, “ Hey, that rhymed. . .” Luckily, he lost that train of thought almost as quickly as it came as his mind wandered towards exactly how this demon had come to be under the influence, which he wisely neglected to mention. He saw no reason to draw undue attention to his own infractions, especially when the slayer was in such a good mood, but as big as the demon was, Spike figured that at least a couple of Sunnydale’s citizens had been less than lucky after they'd crossed its path. _Guess that explains the lack of baddies walkin’ about. Most of ‘em probably holed up to sleep it off_.

He was brought back to the present when he felt a sharp little jab in the stomach, which caused him to grunt in surprise. He looked down directly into Buffy’s face, her eyebrows knitted in confusion and bottom lip sticking out like a little girl. She glared at him for a moment and then accused, “ Aren’t you supposed to be like, NOT here?” 

 Spike shrugged, “ Got bored”, and then grinning slyly, added, “ Wanted to see what you were up to, cutie.” He gave her a wink and used the tip of his pointer finger to lightly wiggle the precious little bump on her nose- a move that ordinarily might’ve gotten his face caved in by the little blonde. Instead, she just wrinkled her nose and rubbed it a bit before staring into his eyes and whispering, “ oh.” She gazed at him for a few seconds with a dreamy expression, and then resumed her former pout as she physically attempted to shake off the affects of his nearness before walking past him and out onto the sidewalk.

 Buffy just stood there for a minute, watching people milling about while Spike stood along side, watching her. After a moment of silent contemplation, she stated, “ Something weird is happening. All of my friends just… disappeared, and just a little while ago, I was walking past the coffee shop, and I saw Mom and Giles, and they were dressed, like, all crazy, and Giles was acting all…like, well, YOU, and beat up a cop and took his gun, and then he and Mom started having SEX”, she stage whispered, “ On a POLICE CAR! It was like, totally sick! And I was all, Gross! and they were all Whatever!, so I left and came over here, and then, all these people were dancing around and doing ...IT... and stuff... I mean, this isn‘t normal, right?”

 “ Unfortunately, no, ducks.” Spike sighed wistfully. “ Seems like someone added a little something extra to the chocolate bars that everyone’s eating.”

 “ You mean, like drugs?” Even stoned, she was quick on the uptake.

Spike nodded. “ I mean, exactly drugs. Some sort of chemical that seems to be an interesting combo of ecstasy and pot, but. . . NOT.”, Spike added, with a somewhat unmanly giggle .

 Buffy‘s eyebrows raised in surprise. “ Wow. I ate like, twenty of those things. I figured a little chocolate would help me get over my crappy day, but THIS is… “, she gestured emphatically at nothing in particular. “THIS…“ she nodded…“this is…” her words trailed off as she stared off into space, smiling, for a minute before asking, “ So, is this like, really happening right now? I mean, are you really here talking to me, or am I dreaming you?” 

 Her bleached nemesis smiled lazily, giving her a saucy wink as he drawled, “ Oh I’m real, baby,” his voice low and sexy. “ If you were dreaming, then I’d probably be naked and doing terribly naughty things to you.”

 Buffy looked at him hard for a second, as if she were about to deliver an angry retort, but then her face broke into a huge grin as she snorted and said, “ Yeah. Probably.” Giggling, she added, “ You mean like those guys over there?” She pointed at two very conservatively dressed, yet slightly unkempt, middle aged men who were making out like teenagers on a park bench.

 Spike raised an eyebrow in pleasant surprise to her response. _Well now. Do tell ,Slayer_. Then, realizing how completely out of character her admission was, paused to question, _Wait. Am I dreaming?_ He turned his attention back to her, staring at her with a mildly shocked expression as she continued to watch the two men on the bench, who were now frantically tearing one another's clothes off, eyeing them with a glazed expression as her eyebrows scrunched together in a speculative fashion. _Nah, can’t be. If I was dreaming, I’d be delivering a pizza to her flat, and she’d answer the door in a red nightie, and then she’d start to pay me, only to realize that she doesn’t have enough dosh…_ Spike began to grin wickedly at the naughty pictures in his brain, which began to give him brilliant ideas. He knew it was risky, but he decided to go for it, his demon cheering him on. He bent down and whispered in her ear huskily, “ Yeah. Like that. Only, not on a bench. We’d need something a bit sturdier, I’d wager.”

 Her reaction was almost instantaneous, and entirely unexpected. Spike had fully anticipated a swift kick to some unguarded part of his person, but instead, she stared up at him with those huge moss green eyes, her expression smiling and uncharacteristically shy as she replied, “ I never EVER thought I’d tell you this, but you remind me of a poem.” Spike’s chest tightened as his inner William perked his ears at the very words he‘s always secretly longed to hear from a beautiful woman. 

 Seeing his confused expression, she quickly added , “ I mean, not like the form of writing…I mean, an actual poem, that I had to memorize for school once.” She gave a little embarrassed grin and continued, “ I didn’t even realize I’d remembered any of it until I saw you that first night, you know, in the alley?” Spike nodded and kept silent, waiting for her next words. Buffy blushed a little and then started rambling, “ Even from day one, you’ve always been so confusing to me. You came out of the shadows, and you were beautiful and terrifying all at the same time, and I just stood there wondering why, of all the men in that club, why YOU had to be the one I’m supposed to kill, and how life is just so unfair sometimes, and then I remembered the poem, and the words just came to me, and every time I saw you after that, they were like, the first things that came into my head every time, but of course, I couldn’t tell YOU that, because you’re all evil with the trying to kill me and stuff…”, she trailed off, apparently just realizing that she HAD, in fact, told him, and stared at him, wide-eyed and waiting for what came next.

 Ordinarily, he absolutely would have mocked her, and savagely. They were enemies, after all, and using one’s enemy’s weakness to one’s advantage was just simply how the game was played. However, if he was understanding her correctly, she’d just implied that she thought of him as something much more than just another vamp to kill, and THAT defied everything that he knew to be true in his world. _I MUST be hallucinating!_ , he thought vehemently, even as he heard himself ask, “ What poem, slayer?”

 She looked down at the ground, blushing beautifully , and stammered, “ It‘s stupid. I mean, it’s not like, a love poem or anything, and I only remember the one part. I don’t think it’s even complimentary. Actually, I’m not even sure what it’s really about. I mean, you know how a poem usually sounds like it’s about one thing when it’s actually about something completely different? Well, I don’t know what it’s supposed to be about, really, but anyway, here goes….and no making fun!”, she added with mock sternness. Spike nodded emphatically, trying to keep from laughing as he crossed his heart while attempting to look as innocent as possible.

The slayer cleared her throat, and then looking up, as if trying to recall the words, began,

      _When the stars threw down their spears,_

_And water'd heaven with their tears,_

_Did He smile His work to see?_

_Did He who made the lamb make thee?_

_Tyger, tyger, burning bright_

_In the forests of the night,_

_What immortal hand or eye_

_Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?_

Once she was finished, she looked up at Spike, expectantly, and he knew she was waiting for him to start laughing at her, but he wasn’t, not one bit. Quite the opposite, actually, he didn’t find this moment funny in the least. He stepped forward, staring down at her, and asked, almost angrily, “ Slayer, I MUST be going mad. Tell me, did you really call me beautiful and terrifying and then quote William bloody Blake to me?”

Buffy scrunched her eyebrows at him, staring at him in confusion for a moment, and then replied, “ Um, yeah...It's just...well, cuz tigers...all with the vicious and deadly, and just looking at them, you KNOW...you KNOW that getting too close would end with badness...", she trailed off as she tore her gaze from his and stared down at the pavement, mortified at her own inability to just.stop.talking. But she'd lost all control of her inhibitions, and wherever her next words led, she could only follow helplessly. " But even so, there's still that part of you that wants to touch, to see if their hair is really as soft as it looks, to see if they purr when you rub them just the right way..." Her words trailed off as her bright eyes shined up at him dreamily.As he gazed down on her flushed face, it became evident that the vampire who never seemed to run out of words finally had, and at the very worst possible moment. So, he did the only thing he could. He grabbed her shoulders, pulling her fiercely against him as his mouth claimed hers in a searing kiss.

Everything was a blur after that. First, they were kissing on the sidewalk, the world around them forgotten. Then, they were practically humping against the wall of the nearest building. Somehow, Spike managed to recall that he had a flat nearby which he’d acquired during the whole “Annoying One” debacle, and though he’d never used it, he’d seen to it that it had been kept clean, for one never knew when they might need a nice, quiet place to hide out in. It seemed to take an eternity, but somehow, Spike got them there, and as soon as they made it through the door, they were sprawled out on his king sized mattress, which thankfully had been fitted with clean sheets somewhat recently. _Thinking ahead has never paid off so dearly_ , thought Spike as he stared down at the gorgeous, half-clothed girl beneath him on the bed.

He couldn’t stop touching her as he kissed every piece of skin that his quick fingers revealed to his grateful eyes, and if her moans were any indication, she didn’t mind one bit. With a deftness that had taken nearly half a century to perfect, Spike had her shirt and bra off in a few swift movements. As soon as her perfect breasts were revealed to him, Spike couldn’t resist the urge to take a nipple into his mouth, smiling to himself as she moaned loudly and bucked beneath him. The sound made him moan right along with her as he switched to her other breast and was rewarded with a strangled cry when her whole body suddenly tensed up in orgasm. He growled softly, grinning smugly as he ground himself into her and she cried out again.

She was so responsive, it was like a dream. A really dirty, wonderful dream. He wondered vaguely again at his own state of consciousness, but knew no dream could ever possibly come close to the reality of her taste, her smell, her warm body writhing beneath his with a strength belied by her delicate frame, but Spike wasn’t fooled. Even if he hadn’t borne the brunt of it on more than one occasion, he could feel the power in the tiny hands that clutched handfuls of hair as he peeled off her skirt and knickers and dove his mouth straight into her sweet pussy. If he’d been a mortal man, she probably would have seriously hurt him when her strong thighs involuntarily placed a death grip on his head as she wailed in ecstasy, but the monster just purred, perfectly content and eagerly prepared to stay right where he was for all of eternity. He was surrounded by her, drowning in her very essence. As far as he was concerned, in that moment, everything in their past was gone and forgotten. He couldn’t even remember why he’d ever wanted to kill her, and now he was lost to her, utterly and entirely, and he knew without a doubt, that in his heart of hearts, it was where he’d always wanted to be.

He stayed right where he was, licking, sucking, and purring until Buffy was limp and begging him to stop. With one final, slow lick to her clit that made her whole body shudder, he peered up at her and grinned wickedly at her disheveled state. Placing soft, wet kisses on various parts of her skin, Spike slowly made his way up her body, driving himself delightfully insane while causing her to twitch and gasp with every light rasp of his tongue. When Spike reached her neck, he lingered for a moment, savoring the scent there, before moving to her face, where he lightly kissed her cheek, her forehead, and finally, her lips. She kissed him back softly, sighing against his mouth happily.

He smiled against her lips and lifted his head to look at her. If it were possible, she’d become even more lovely, her eyes shining bright, emerald green, her face flushed and glowing, and her lips pink and swollen. Beautiful. Spike could have sworn he felt his heart beat at the sight of her. Lifting his hand to her face, he traced first her brow, and then a cheek, before running a thumb across her lips. _Beautiful and terrifying_ , his mind repeated, and he inwardly admitted that he felt precisely the same way about her. It defied all good sense and reason, but there it was nonetheless. Staring intently into her eyes, he whispered,     

       _In what distant deeps or skies burnt the fire of thine eyes?_

_On what wings dare he aspire?_

_What the hand dare seize the fire?_

Buffy’s eyes widened for a moment, and then she just stared at him with her unfathomable green gaze as if he were a puzzle she were attempting to solve. Then, apparently uncovering whatever riddle her mind held, she smiled softly and cupped his face with both hands, pulled his face close to hers, and kissed him feverishly. Before he could even register what she was doing, she’d rolled him onto his back and swiftly impaled herself upon him, causing them both to moan loudly. Once he was completely sheathed inside her, she stilled completely, perfect lips open in a mildly surprised “oh”. Spike was certain his expression matched hers, because whatever it was, he felt it as well, and it was unlike anything he’d ever experienced. There was a current passing between them, surrounding them as she touched her lips to his, not kissing, but sharing the same breath until he could no longer tell where she began and he ended.

They stayed like that for as long as they could, neither of them willing to break whatever spell they were under, until the current began to pulse, overtaking their movements in a natural rhythm that felt so perfect, Spike couldn’t comprehend how he’d existed so long without it. In that same moment of realization, Spike had an epiphany. It wasn’t the slayer that was causing him to feel this way, it was HER. It was Buffy. Spike could admit that he’d had a fixation with slayers ever since his first encounter in China. It was the power, pure and simple, and the fact that it was usually contained in a lovely vessel didn’t hurt either. The first time he’d seen Buffy, he’d felt this passion to stir inside of him, but had told himself it was just a fervent desire to kill this particularly smart mouthed little slayer. However, now, in this moment, as he was cradled inside of her, it was suddenly very clear to him that he’d been lying to himself, and now that he’d finally allowed himself to see the truth, he could never live in denial again . Self preservation be damned. If he burned in her light, then he’d dust with a smile on his face.

As much as he loved the sight of her perfect little breasts bobbing above him, he needed to be closer to her. In the blink of an eye, he reversed their positions, pulling one of her legs up to wrap around his waist as he ground his pelvis against her clit, causing her to moan his name. That, he decided, was a sound he could hear every day of forever and still never get enough of. The very idea of it sent him into a near frenzy as he became utterly lost in her, lost in the moment, and in the prospect of things to come, for he realized now that no matter what came with the morning, he would never leave her. Realizing that he wouldn’t last much longer, he placed his thumb on Buffy’s clit and began to rub light circles as he whispered, “ Come with me, love.” She cried out in ecstasy as her legs lost her grip on his waist and her whole body began to tense and quiver with her building orgasm. “ That’s right, beautiful girl.”, Spike moaned at the vision beneath him. “ So perfect…Buffy…love…”, his words trailed off as the lovely tension began to build in his own body as he peaked right along with her. Burying his face in her neck, he came harder than he ever had in his entire existence.

They lay entwined for a few minutes, panting and clinging to one another, but not speaking. Finally, Buffy nuzzled his neck and whispered in a trembling voice full of emotion, “ Please, please don’t be gone when I wake up. I won‘t…I can‘t…”

Spike lifted his head to look at her, and what he saw nearly broke his heart. Her eyes were full of unshed tears and her chin trembled with the attempt to hold them back. “ Shhh, love.”, he whispered, stroking his thumb across her lips tenderly. “ ‘m not goin’ anywhere. Wouldn’t leave now, even if you tried to send me away, an’ I won’t do anything to make you regret it. I swear to you.” Then smiling , added, “ Old Spike hasn’t lied to you yet, have I?”

She gave him a tiny smile back and rolled her eyes. His mouth widened into a crooked grin and he bent his face down and kissed her, feeling himself harden inside her as she moaned softly against his lips. Then, obviously feeling him as well, she tilted her head up, eyes wide and in a surprised tone, asked, “ Again?!”

Spike couldn’t help but smirk at the charmingly naïve question. “ Ah, love”, he growled, “ You really have no idea, do you?” Then, rotating his hips to find that special spot inside of her, both of them gasping simultaneously when he did. "Let me show you, pet. Let me show you how good it can really be.” Then he did. Twice.

Three hours later, when Buffy, barely able to keep her eyes open, had finally moaned, “ No more!”, Spike lay on his back with a warm, sleeping slayer sprawled across his chest, his fingertips lightly trailing her spine. He knew it couldn't last, this perfect moment, that the dawn would most likely greet him with tears and recriminations, but it didn't matter. His mind was set on finding a way to make his current situation permanent, and he'd never stop until the path was clear. In that moment, the jaded old vamp felt completely and totally happy as he drifted into the most peaceful slumber he'd had in over one hundred years.

++++++++++++++++++

 

_Come writers and critics Who prophesize with your pen_

_And keep your eyes wide The chance won't come again_

_And don't speak too soon For the wheel's still in spin_

_And there's no tellin' who That it's namin'_

_For the loser now Will be later to win_

_For the times they are a-changin'_

_\- Bob Dylan_

 

Meanwhile, all across Sunnydale...

 

The demon Lurconis slowly slithered through the sewers, back to his nest, with a belly full of traitorous mayor. It wasn't precisely the gourmet tribute he'd planned for, but it beat nothing at all, and it sure beat going up top and having to deal with the locals. At least the little man had put up a decent fight. Fear always made the food taste better...

 

Rupert Giles was sleeping like the dead on his living room floor as Bob Dylan quietly sang of changing times on the record player. Cuddled beside him was Joyce Summers, wearing nothing but a stolen coat, while he himself wore nothing but a woman's hat and a pair of handcuffs dangling from one wrist...

Willow awoke with a start in a strange bed, feeling overheated and slightly panicked at the sensation of being pinned down on all sides. She looked over to her left, only to come face to face with a sleeping Xander. Her breath caught in her throat as her mind began to race. _Oh, no!,_ she wailed internally _, We actually DID it ! Poor Oz!...Poor Cordy! How will we..._ She was cut off mid panic attack by a huff of warm breath in her ear. She turned her head to the right and found her sweet wolf-man, wrapped around her and snoring quietly. As she tried to process that, she became acutely aware of a warm weight across her thighs. Looking down, she discovered Queen C herself draped across the three of them, her lovely, toned body completely bare. It was only then that Willow realized they were ALL totally naked. Together. In what could only be Cordelia's king size brass canopy bed. As the memories of the previous hours began to filter in, Willow's mind went utterly blank...

Angel stared silently into his fireplace, silently contemplating Buffy's absence that night. He knew it was his fault. He had been slowly pushing her away for a while now, and it really was better for them both, in the long run, even though it hurt him to the core. He wondered if the Powers had known what they were doing when they'd plucked him from Hell, only to plant him in the one place that would be worse than any dimension of Hell itself-a place where he could only see and never touch the only thing he'd ever really wanted. The whole "Scott" episode was only the tip of the ice burg. Eventually, another man would come along, one who could touch her, who could give her everything she deserved. Could he really stand by and wait for that day? Could he really stand by and watch as some other man took what could've been his? If only...If only. Even thinking about it made his soul bleed, and he knew there was no way he could just wait around and watch it happen. If he stayed, how long would it take before jealousy and despair brought out something worse in him than Angelus, regardless of the soul? There was no way he'd ever be strong enough to endure it, even though he knew he deserved it. Angel blinked away the moisture from his eyes, cleared his throat, and walked over to his desk. Sitting down with pen in hand, he began to write the most painful letter he would ever have to write...

**Author's Note:**

> Throw me some love, or hate. Whatever. I'm an attention whore.


End file.
